


blink and you'll miss it

by icanhearyouglaring



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 17:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15891063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icanhearyouglaring/pseuds/icanhearyouglaring
Summary: Wally has a lot of catching up to do before he can go home. Time-travel Fix-it. wally/artemis





	blink and you'll miss it

 

It’s a running joke, a dangerous one, but hell, they’re not going to stop saying it simply because there’s a chance the world is about to end. If anything–with the stakes so high–there’s no better time _to_ say it. For luck. 

“What could go wrong?”

Wally barely hears Artemis pose the question under her breath as she snaps her belt closed. Their comms keep calling for their attention, but Dick would definitely prefer them to be in their costumes instead of the state they’d been in before the end of the world (which was supposed to be, ya know, postponed for at least one goddamn day after the summit) rudely interrupted them.

“Everything that can,” Wally grumbles, furiously tugging on his suit’s jammed zipper. He gives up and turns, giving Artemis his back. In a second, he feels her fingers fiddling with the finicky fabric.

“Typical,” Artemis tuts as she frees his zipper and pulls it all the way up. Her hands linger at the nape of his neck for a second longer than necessary before she pulls his cowl over his head. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” he says as he adjusts the cowl over his cheeks and straightens out his goggles.

When he turns to face her, she’s ready to go with her quiver on her back and her bow in her hand. The instant he places his hand on her arm, their comms begin beeping again.

Wally purses his lips before smiling and saying, “I hate to admit it, but I’m digging the old threads.”

The worried crease in her brow disappears as she smiles with a glint in her eye he’s seen a thousand times before; it’s a sight he’d feared losing to memory if Dick’s plan – _their_ plan– hadn’t worked out.

“Me too,” she agrees as she moves closer. She places her free hand over his Flash insignia before leaning against him and sighing deeply. “Just– hold on a second. I missed you.”

He pulls her close, resting his chin on the top of her head, and exhales, “Ditto.”

They both know how important it is to get to D.C. as soon as possible, but they need this –just one more moment, _together_ , out of the fray– and what difference does a minute make in the scheme of things?

* * *

 

As it turns out, a minute makes a big difference.

Wally expects to be confronted by snow, ice, and Artemis when he wakes up after seemingly phasing out of existence. His blurred vision is filled with white, but to his confusion he’s neither cold nor in the Arctic. The sterile air being filtered into the bright white recovery room he’s been tucked into (by the League and not their alien overlords, he hopes, as his suit has been replaced by a white t-shirt and light pajama pants) is the single source of noise.

The only thing that meets his expectations is Artemis’s presence, and even then he’s stunned at the sight of her.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” she says nonchalantly, placing a pitcher of water on the bedside table. “How are you feeling?”

“I... You’re–” is all he can say before his body is wracked by coughs. He sits up and quickly accepts the glass of water she’s already holding out to him. The coughing fit gives him an opportunity to choose his next words _very_ carefully.

After the fit subsides and he catches his breath, he looks her straight in the eye and says, “You’re _old_.”

“I’m not _that_ old, jerk,” Artemis fires back without missing a beat. She takes the empty glass away from him with more force than necessary.

“What’s happening?” His mind moves quickly, attempting to answer his own question and coming up with approximately zero answers.

Artemis _is_ old. Even if he completely ignored her sharper cheekbones, deeper frown lines, and the new-to-him but worn-looking green and black suit, he’d be able to tell she was much older than the Artemis he’d just left behind. This Artemis has _seen_ things, things he’d never be able to imagine and it _shows_. And if the Artemis in front of him is old, and he _isn’t_ , then he’s _not_ where he’s supposed to be. Maybe not even _when_ he’s supposed to be. _Oh boy._  

His voice breaks when he asks again, “What happened?”

Her eyes flit around the room before she calmly instructs, “Wally, try to settle down. You need to breathe. You’ve been out for almost a week.”

Artemis stops him from leaving his bed by placing a cool hand on his bare shoulder. Wally shrinks away from her touch. It’s a _really_ cold hand. His eyes widen when he trails his gaze from her shoulder to her forearm and realizes exactly why she’s so cold.

“What the hell happened to your arm?!” His still-raspy voice fills the small room and he catches her _metal_ hand before she can move it out of his reach.

“If you’d calm down and let me talk, we could get to that,” she sighs, pulling her hand away. She flexes her prosthetic fingers and Wally cannot help but continue to freak out internally.

It must show externally because her expression softens as she takes a seat in the chair next to the bed.

“Okay, try not to freak out because everything is going to be okay.”

 “You are in the future,” she begins slowly, waiting for a nod from him before she continues, “and the chrysalis energy from the Magnetic Field Disruptor –combined with your powers– sent you here through something called the Speed Force.”

“Speed Force?”

“It’s complicated,” she answers without answering. “We can talk about it in depth later.” 

Wally waits a beat before daring to ask, “What day is it?”

Artemis sighs knowingly before she says, “Tuesday.” 

“ _Artemis,_ ” Wally whines.

She shakes her head. “I can’t tell you the exact date.”

“Why not?”

Her lips purse and she glances above his head before she admits, “I can’t tell you that either.”

“Well, what _can_ you tell me?” Wally says snippily, moving to sit up straighter.

 _At least some things don’t change_ , he thinks, as Artemis fiddles with her stud earring to distract from her discomfort. He can see the conflict in her eyes, even as she makes it a point not to look at him. Wally hides his shaking hands in the blankets that pool over his lap. A restless sort of bitterness sweeps through him as she continues to mull over his question. Bart hadn’t been denied information (or food) when _he_ time travelled. Then again, Bart had already had a lot of information because he had travelled _back_ in time.  

Apparently, going _forward_ severely limits Wally’s options.

“I can tell you that you’re in the future,” Artemis says suddenly, breaking through the uneasiness that filled the room, “and that the League is doing everything they can to get you back where you belong. I can tell you it’s not going to be fun and you’re going to have to deal with me the whole time. I can tell you that I can’t answer a lot of the questions you have, so it’ll be easier for the both of us if you just stop asking. If you need to know something, I’ll tell you.”

“Fine,” Wally says, his tone laced with an edge that doesn’t faze her, “but first, I have two more questions. One, when can I get something to eat? I’m _starving_.”

The corners of Artemis’s lips twitch upwards. “Breakfast is in 10 minutes.”

“Two, who’s watching us?” Wally jerks a thumb towards the wall she’s been having a one way conversation with ever since he woke up.

Artemis gives the wall another annoyed glance before relenting. “Batman. And he’s not going to leave us alone, and he’s not going to talk, so just pretend he’s not there.”

Wally nods, first at Artemis and then at the wall. “He might as well come in.”

Artemis shakes her head. “He won’t. Besides me, the only other person allowed to see you is Conner. The League believes it’s in your best interest to have as little interaction with this time period as possible.”

“Nice to know the League knows what’s best for me.”

He strikes a nerve.

“Look, I know you’ve been through alot, and it’s confusing and it sucks, but this _really_ isn’t all about–” Artemis stops abruptly to send an exasperated glare towards the wall. “It’d screw with the timestream and you know it.”

Artemis purses her lips, stands up, and walks to the larger of the two doors in the room with heavy footfalls. A sensor scans her prosthetic hand and the door slides open. She lingers in the doorway and Wally can’t help but imagine what would happen if he tried running past her. Batman would be prepared for that, wouldn’t he? _Batman_ ... _Damn_.

If Artemis is old, Batman must be _ancient_.

“Don’t worry, Wally,” Artemis says, turning to look at him over her shoulder. “You’ll be home soon enough.”

The words quiet his blaring thoughts just enough for him to hear the door lock behind her.

* * *

 

Artemis hadn’t been lying when she said she’d only tell him what he needed to know. Halfway through their tense and terribly silent breakfast, her eyes shift to the wall for far too long. The unspoken question in his eyes gets ignored as she starts mouthing curses.

“They did what?!” she shouts, dropping her fork onto her plate.

The more the voice in her ear speaks, the more Wally can read her. Her shoulders rise. Something is wrong. Her jaw is clenched. Someone is in trouble. Someone is _always_ in trouble. If that _weren’t_ true, they’d be out of a job.

“I have to go.” She stands up and picks up her quiver from the side of the table. “If anyone else could do it, I’d stay, but–”

“No worries, I get it. There will always be a world to save, and all that jazz. That doesn’t change in the past, present, or, as it seems, the future,” Wally shrugs and plunges his fork into another sausage link.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she agrees, quickly fixing her cowl over her face before looking at him thoughtfully. “You’re being pretty good about this. I was expecting more questions.” 

“I figured food first, questions later. Don't bite the hand that feeds you. Yadda, yadda, yadda.”

When his fork halfway to his mouth, he sees her– a glimpse of the Artemis he left back in 2016. It’s in the way she exhales before gathering her resolve, the way she clips her quiver into place, the way her steely eyes harden before a fight.

Wally puts his fork down on the plate without a sound.

“Conner is going to come by in two hours,” she says, pausing her hurried gate to look back at him from the open doorway. “He’ll take you down the hall, run some tests, get you up to speed.”

“Cool, uh, take care,” Wally says, sending her a half wave.

He turns his vision to his plate when she doesn’t respond. The door closes and he forces down the rising blush on his face. _Take care? Seriously? That’s something you say to the mailman, not Artemis._

He stands and takes five, slow steps before falling face first into his mussed up bed.

“Are you still there?” he asks the false wall, his words muffled by a pillow and his misery.

He gets the answer he expected: complete silence.

* * *

 

In the two hours that drag on between Artemis’s departure and Conner’s arrival, Wally thinks. A lot.

He thinks about his parents and how they must feel right now, as in _2016_ right now. Dick had to have sent Artemis to tell them. How awful. He remembers telling Paula about Artemis, vividly, because it’s the most painful, destructive lie he’s ever told. Would she forgive him? Barry would go straight to Iris. He’d blame himself. Bart might have to tell the Garricks. Would they be proud of him? That’s really all he’s ever wanted: to make them all proud.

He tries to think about Dick, but the only thing that pops into his head is the day Dick took off his mask, stuck out his hand, and introduced himself, and that becomes _too much_ to think about on top of everything else. _We were fighting so much. Are you looking for me?_ flies through his mind one time before he shuts down that train of thought. _Of course he is._

He thinks about Artemis. Mostly about the last thing she said to him, the last thing he said to her. He can’t remember either. It drives him crazy. 

* * *

 

 “Try again.”

 “I hate this,” Wally huffs, resting his weight against the hellish treadmill Conner’s forced him to test.

“Not as much as you’ll hate being stuck in the future,” Conner reminds him as he reaches over to reset the starting speed. “One more try and we’ll call it a day.”

“What day is today?”

Conner smirks before answering, “Tuesday.”

Wally groans loudly as the treadmill starts to speed up.

 Having Conner around is both grounding and unsettling. His unchanged appearance is familiar and comforting, especially after seeing Artemis so changed. At the same time, future Conner _knows_ things, has _seen_ things, just like Artemis. They make him feel like a kid again. The question _What happened to you guys?_ begs to be asked, but he doubts either of them would answer, not truthfully at least.

His feet fall out from under him after a few minutes of steadily running at a speed he’d hardly skimmed in the past, but Conner catches him before he can fall onto the blurred treads. 

“I think that’s enough for today. Good job,” Conner comments, as he leads him to a bench. “You’re really exceeding our expectations.”

The atta-boy is a surprisingly effective. Wally takes his time catching his breath. It takes him a few minutes to stop _buzzing_.

“Why do I have to run so fast anyway?” he asks, when he finally gets his shaking under control.

“You’ll find out tomorrow,” Conner answers with a shrug.

“Wednesday?”

“Yes, Wednesday.”

“And Thursday?”

“That’s up to Artemis.”

“Friday?”

“Still up to her.”

 “Saturday?”

“Wally.”

Wally raises his hands. “Sorry, I’m in the dark here.”

“Yeah, that’s on purpose if you haven’t noticed by now.” Conner takes a seat on the bench. He removes his communicator from his ear and turns it off before turning to Wally. “You can’t be allowed to know certain things, or even think about things that _might_ lead to you knowing certain things or that’ll mess with the timeline and we’ll end up screwed and blah, blah, _blah_.”

“So the League has a gag order.”

Conner nods and smiles. “The League has a gag order. I don't think it's that important.”

“I just want to go home,” Wally grumbles, rubbing his tired eyes with the palms of his hands. “I mean, no offense, you’re cool, Con, but I miss my family, my friends, my dog.”

Conner places a hand on his shoulder. “We’re doing everything we can to get you back.”

“I know, and I’m really grateful I ended up in a future where I’ve still got people who care and not one with some crazy zombie apocalypse, but it’d be nice to know a little about what _everything_ is.”

Conner is quiet for a beat before he asks, “How’d you know about the zombies?”

“I cannot _believe_ you are messing with me right now.”

“If it helps, you’re on track to be home by Saturday. But don’t let anyone know you know that.” Conner taps his communicator and waits a moment before turning it back on and placing it in his ear. “Now, you smell. Let’s head back to your room. Go take a shower and put on the clothes that are in the nightstand by your bed. I’ll come by with lunch and the best pie you’ve ever tasted as soon as you’re done.”

Wally decides to take what he can get and try for more information tomorrow (after pie).

“Thanks, Supey.”

* * *

 

On day two of Wally’s adventure through time, Artemis returns, surly and exhausted, to explain the Speed Force in just enough detail for him to believe a return trip through it won’t a) kill him, b) be impossible, or c) screw up the timeline. After nearly nine hours of arguing over the intentional vagueness of it all, Artemis tosses their combined notes and diagrams to the ground and storms out, only to return an hour later to drop off a pizza, more snacks, and a worn-down, well-scrambled 17x17 Rubik’s Cube. She tells him to have fun and get some rest, but the edge in her tone sort of mixes the message.

As soon as she leaves, Wally holds the cube up to the wall where he _knows_ Batman is watching.  

“Seriously?”

He tosses it onto the bed and petulantly declares, “I’m not doing this. I am not a child. I am going to _study_.”

Batman doesn’t answer, but Wally keeps talking to him as he pulls the jumble of papers together on the table.

He stacks them up and says, “I’m going to know the Speed Force backwards and forwards before tomorrow, and then I can go home and get out of this glorified _playpen_!”

It takes him a whole pizza to decide his mind is all Speed-Forced out for the day. The cube mocks him from the bed for almost ten minutes before he convinces himself that there’s no way Batman is still there. Surely Gotham must be missing its guardian.

Still, Wally keeps glancing at the blank wall as he picks up the cube and gets to work. He solves it in just under an hour using his years of experience solving cubes in middle school and a little super speed. He carefully places the finished product on the table and checks the clock on the wall.

“New record. Still got it,” Wally says, grinning as he falls back onto the bed and pops a victory piece of taffy into his mouth.

“ _Bart did it in fifteen minutes on a whim_ ,” a filtered voice fills the room.

Wally nearly chokes on his candy.

He rolls off the bed to stand and face the wall. “Who’s there?”

“ _Your conscience_ ,” the voice answers. “ _We haven’t spoken in awhile.”_

“Bart, is that you?” Wally walks up to the wall and tries in vain to find any sort of seam or weak point. He slams his hand against it and the hollow sound irks him. “I swear, I am not in the mood for games, Bart.”

“ _Not Bart. Listen, you can solve it faster. Use your powers. It’ll hold up.”_

Wally narrows his eyes. “Why?”

_“You’re fast, but you need to start thinking faster if you’re going to get home soon.”_

 Wally waits a beat before he takes his hand off the wall and asks, “Dick?” 

His conscience doesn’t answer, but the silence says volumes.

* * *

 

By the time Artemis comes in the room, Wally has his time down to twenty-two minutes and sixteen seconds.

She takes one look at him, with his mussed up hair and restless hands, before she asks, “Did you sleep _at all_?”

Wally stares back at her with his sleep-deprived eyes and states the fact that’s been running through his mind all night.

“Dick is Batman.”

Artemis releases a heavy sigh and grumbles under her breath as she drops the bag she’d been carrying onto the floor next to the door. She pulls the cube out of Wally’s hands and tosses it onto the table.

“You look scary. You need to sleep. Your body has been through a lot, even if you’re not feeling it. We can’t do a trial run with you like this,” she says, gesturing at his shaking hands and tense posture.

“He _is,_ ” Wally mutters to himself. “He totally is. I fucking _knew_ it. This is awful–”

“ _O-kay_ , that’s enough, Wallman,” Artemis says, placing both hands on his shoulders. “Time for bed.”

Wally reaches up with one hand and carefully grasps her metal arm. Artemis doesn’t pull away, so he takes his time examining the tech with slight awe. He hears the hum of the artificial limb if he focuses hard enough, feels it vibrating under his touch. When he finally looks her in the eye, his shoulders relax and he motions for her to take a seat next to him on the bed. She obliges.

“When I go back,” he begins slowly, his mind still searching for the right words, “is there anything I can do?” 

“No,” Artemis answers quickly, quietly. “You can’t try to change _anything_. You hear me, Wally? You have to accept that before you go back, or you’ll drive yourself crazy. This is exactly why we’re not telling you more than you need to know.”

“But if I can fix things–”

“But _nothing_. There’s nothing for you to _fix_ ,” she clips, cutting him off. Her fingers skim the top of his hand. “I know you're talking about the arm. The day I lost it, I made a choice, and I’d make it again a million times if it meant my life would stay _exactly_ the way it is. We’ve all had to make difficult choices over the years, but in the end we stand by those choices.”

Wally closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and lies back on the bed. Artemis follows suit, still watching him closely. He’s had too long to think about her, but he hasn’t had enough time to work up the nerve to ask where _he_ –his _future_ self– is (if he’s still in the hero game, if they make it, if they went back to school, if he’s _alive_ ). She’d never answer, but the unanswered questions keep him awake and on edge and– she’s right. He’ll drive himself crazy trying to patch the future together in his mind. Wally exhales slowly and opens his eyes before asking his last question.

“Are you happy?” 

“Yes,” Artemis answers without hesitation, and it makes his chest hurt and his fingers tremble as they grip the bedsheet.

 That single word puts an end to all the other burning questions, for now. He trusts her; she’s still _Artemis_. He _has_ to trust her.

“Okay,” he whispers, turning to look at the ceiling as the suffocating tightness in his throat loosens and his short breaths even out. “Good.”

“Good,” she repeats, and he can feel her eyes on him as she unravels his fingers from the edge of the bedsheet and places her hand over his.

“Really good.”

* * *

 

Wally doesn’t remember falling asleep. He remembers Artemis telling him to get into bed, to let go of her hand, to get some rest, but he can’t pinpoint the exact moment he stopped watching her have a silent conversation with the voice in her ear as she sat at the table and drifted off to sleep. One second, he’d been awake and the next he was waking up. And though Artemis might have gone, Wally quickly registers that she didn’t leave her post unattended.

“Oh, you’re up,” Conner notes, without looking up from the pile of papers in front of him. “How are you feeling?”

“Like this could either be a really mean prank or a painfully long nightmare.” Wally twists until his back releases a satisfying ‘pop’. “I’m hoping for the later, because the former would make all of you huge dicks.”

“Luckily for you it’s neither,” Conner snorts. “Now, can you answer my question? Artemis said you were a little stressed earlier.” 

“I’m fine,” Wally says, sitting at the edge of the bed. “I’m saving the existential crisis for when I get home– _if_ I get home.”

“ _When_ you get home,” Conner corrects him, stacking his papers. “Not too long now. Today’s Friday.” 

Wally stills. He stands up and checks his non-existent watch before he asks, “ _How_?” 

“You slept for a long time. The toll of your trip finally caught up with you and you crashed. And not in the good way.” Conner glances at the false wall before he adds, “Plus Artemis sedated you.”

“What? Why would she-” Wally turns to glare at the false wall and pointedly says, “Rude.”

“Very,” Conner says, rolling his eyes. “But she did bring your suit back, so don’t burn her at the stake just yet.” 

Wally looks around the room for the bright red and yellow of his suit, but what he spots is _definitely_ not the suit he wore when he arrived. He picks up the deep red suit from the seat next to the bed and holds it against himself.

“You needed an upgrade. And your old one didn’t survive the trip here,” Conner notes as he picks up the stack of papers and stands up. “Get ready for a long day. We’re doing practice runs before the big show.” 

Conner leaves him to his own devices, and as soon as the door shuts, Wally rushes to put on the new suit. It fits perfectly and the material makes his old suit look like a handful of rags he stitched together, half-drunk and in the dark. He appreciates the golden bolt detailing along the sides and the streamlining of the shoulder guards. _Sweet._

Wally zips from one end of the room to the other to test it out, and thinks to himself that this suit _might_ actually make up for getting drugged. Maybe. He stops in the middle of the room, _wonders_ , and holds his hands out in front of him.

_Please work, please work, please work._

His hands blur as he vibrates them with more control than he’s ever had and it feels so _easy_ . High with excitement, Wally rushes to the full length mirror in the corner of the room. On his way there, he cuts _through_ the bed.

“No way,” he laughs to himself, and does it again, this time straight through the door that’s kept him locked away. He stops running and slides down the long hall, laughing. He’s too busy smiling and slowing down to notice Conner in his path.

 The collision is much like running into a brick wall, something Wally did _a lot_ when he first got his powers.

Both men are thrown to the ground and the papers that had been in Conner’s hands scatter all over the floor. Wally quickly gathers them before he holds them out to Conner.

“ _Seriously?_ ” Conner asks, standing and plucking the papers out of Wally’s hands. “Can’t leave you alone for one minute–”

 

* * *

 

Running through solid objects was one thing. Running through time was another thing entirely. Or at least that’s what Conner and Artemis say as they watch him run lap after lap in what they dub “ _The Speed Chamber” (_ and they used to call _him_ a dork?).

 The actual course is a simple, circular tube but as Wally races around he takes note of the glowing path above and below him. He can feel _something_ in the air, something just out of reach, something that feels so much like home. He can’t help but run even faster at the thought of home.

“Hey, hey, hey, slow down.” Artemis’s voice filters through the comm set in his new suit half an hour into his run. “You don’t have to go _that_ fast. We’re going to supplement your powers with the energy you’re creating right now and the Chamber can only absorb so much per second.”

 “Aye-aye, Captain,” Wally says, sending her a salute she definitely can’t see.

 As Wally takes trips around his track, he watches Artemis slowly look to Conner with a frown and Conner shake his head. _Hm._

 “Any chance I can get out of this hamster wheel for a sec?” Wally asks, slowing his pace.

 “What’s wrong?” Conner asks, his attention turning to the blue screens in front of him.

 “Nothing, nothing, I just want to say something.”

 “Come on up, we have what we need,” Artemis says, and she presses a finger to the holographic screen to open a hatch on the Chamber.

Wally makes the sharp turn and takes the stairs two at a time to reach them in the observation room. He stops on a dime in front of the diagnostic screen and grins too broadly.

“Hey, I just wanted to say thanks for the new suit. Makes my old one seem like a plastic bag. These treads are something else. What are they made of? Who designed the pattern? These things are so comfortable. And the goggles– what is the interface linking up to? How does it know when to switch modes? Does it have neurointegration tech? Is it reading my mind? Oh my god, it is reading my mind–”

“Wally, you’re speed-talking. I lost you at new suit,” Artemis interrupts, tapping him on the arm.

Conner nods. “I got about every ten words.”

Wally blinks in surprise and slides his goggles up before he apologizes. “Sorry, I didn’t realize...”

“It’s not a bad thing, Wally,” Artemis says. “It means you’re ready to go home.”

 “You can say that again,” Wally says, leaning against the railing.

Artemis crosses her arms and sends Wally a look he can’t read. Wally watches as she turns to Conner and holds his gaze for a long moment. Conner nods, glancing at Wally. Artemis unfolds her arms and sighs.

“It’s almost time,” she says, placing her hand on Wally’s shoulder and guiding him towards the exit. “Here comes the easy part. Now all you have to do is eat.”

Wally laughs as they leave the room. “ _That_ I can do.”

* * *

 

Wally’s last future meal doesn’t last long enough, in his opinion. Before he knows it, they’re back in the chamber, talking last minute tips and sticking tiny discs all over his suit. Artemis takes pleasure in pressing one to the center of his forehead.

“There we go,” she says, nodding to Conner. “That was the last one.”

“Initiating receptor calibration,” Conner replies, and Wally can see the tiny discs sending tiny charges to each other along the seams of his suit. 

“Neat,” Wally notes, watching the charges move along his arms. 

“Yeah, have fun figuring out the suit,” Conner says, smiling in that _I’m remembering something that hasn’t happened for you yet_ kind of way Wally’s gotten used to seeing.

 As they wait for the discs to integrate with the suit, Wally takes a good long look at Conner and Artemis. He has so many questions, all of them left unanswered. But if they were still here, if they were still fighting, still _kind_ and _good_ , then the future couldn’t be all that bad. Wally nods to himself as he accepts that he’ll have to let things happen however they may, so he can get the chance to be here with them.

“Suit’s fully calibrated,” Conner informs them, breaking the bittersweet silence that’d grown between them. “Time to go.”

“Okay, remember,” Artemis sighs, placing a hand on Wally’s arm, “when you go back you _cannot_ say a word about what you saw here. Not one damn word, to _anyone_ , you hear me?”

Wally backs up. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“I _mean_ it,” she says crossly, before mouthing, _Tell me_.

 Behind Artemis, Conner shakes his head and points at himself. _Tell me,_ he mouths silently. _Not her._

 Wally happily nods to both of them.

 “And Wally," Artemis wrestles with her words, “try to be patient with us. Everyone thinks you died.”

“I didn’t,” a filtered voice says, right behind Wally’s ear.

“ _Why?!”_ Wally spins around, his hand clutching the bolt on his chest. “ _Why do you do that_?!”

 Dick, in full Batsuit, shrugs and claps a hand on Wally’s shoulder. “Good to see you too, pal.”

The shock of seeing Dick carrying the Bat-mantle so comfortably is enough to keep Wally from asking the million questions running through his mind. _Why are you Batman? What happened to Bruce? Why couldn’t you stay Nightwing? Is this what you want? It is what everyone else wanted for you? Did you choose this? What changed?_

“You’re not telling me shit about _this_ , are you?” Wally finally asks, gesturing at his old friend’s new-to-him suit.

Dick smiles (an unsettling vision while decked in the Batsuit) and says, “Not a word.”

“Are you ready for this?” Artemis asks, checking the receptors on his suit once again before taking a step back and leaning against the railing.

Wally nods. “As I’ll ever be.”

Artemis lightly pushes him towards the stairs. “Alright then, get down there, run fast, and think of home, Dorothy.”

“What could go wrong?” Wally asks with a wry grin, carefully stepping down the staircase backwards.

“Shut up and get on the track.” The playful smile that slips onto Artemis’s face does nothing to hide her white-knuckled grip on the railing.

“See you soon,” Wally says, giving her a small salute before taking off down the stairs and into the chamber.

 

* * *

 

At first, it feels like the practice run. That _something_ is just out of reach again, the floor and ceiling light up, and Wally pushes his new suit to the limit. Then the light changes color, flickering from a electric green to a blinding white, and all of the sudden, the track feels less like a circle and more like a straightaway.

 _Keep going, keep going, keep going,_ Wally chants to himself, feeling the air resistance begin to give way to a swiftness like nothing he’d ever felt before. He grits his teeth together and digs his feet against– against– there is no floor, _o–kay_ , they didn’t warn him about that one. He keeps running anyway, however _that’s_ possible.

He closes his eyes and thinks of home. _Mom. Dad. Artemis. Iris. Barry. Dick. Keystone. Palo Alto. Brucely. Jay. Joan. Artemis. Wait–_

Wally opens his eyes and holds his breath just before he can hit the plane of white sparks in front of him. A sound like raging thunder fills his ears as he comes to a sliding stop on a dark-lit road. His suit sparks with pent up energy and a word begins to flash within his goggles. _Clap!_

Wally does as the tech says, clapping his hands together as hard as he can. He watches as a lightning bolt rushes from his hands and into the nearest tree. He moves around the ensuing explosion, watching bits of bark burst right in front of his eyes. _It was never like this before._

Wally quickly puts out the flames before they can cause real harm, but he takes pause to look at his hands and grin.

 _So cool!_  

He runs until he finds nearest highway sign, and then he runs _faster,_ knowing how close he really is. It takes only a second for him to find home. He doesn’t bother opening the door to his parent’s house; he runs right through it without an issue.

“Mom!” Wally calls out from the living room. “Dad!” 

A run through the house tells him they’re not home, and it makes him even more anxious to be back. _It’s late. They should be home... unless–_

He blinks, and finds himself in his second home.

 “Uncle Barry! Aunt Iris! You home?”

 Once again, Wally runs through the house and finds nothing, nothing but toddler toys strewn on the floor of every room. He takes the time to pick them up and put them away in a large toy bin in the playroom before he takes off for California.

 _Third time’s the charm,_ he hopes, skidding to a stop in the middle of the street outside their Palo Alto apartment. _Hope it’s still ours._

From the sidewalk, he can see that the lights are lit and there are people milling about inside the apartment. A lot of people. Why so many people?

The lights go off before he can think about it further. Wally narrows his eyes and moves to stay out of sight. _What?_

The sound of an engine winding down echoes through the empty street and Wally watches the motorbike pull into the tight driveway of the apartment building. The rider parks, and even before they take off their helmet, Wally knows exactly who it is.

_Artemis._

Instantly, she turns toward the corner in which he’s hidden himself. “Who’s there?”

“Oh shit,” Wally whispers, wincing. _I said that out loud._

“Come into the light,” Artemis says, all bark (and bite by the position of her hand at her hip).

“Uh,” Wally starts and chokes on whatever words he was going to say.

 What exactly does one say after one jumps out of the timestream?

Instead of speaking, Wally takes a few steps into the light cast into the driveway from the streetlight. 

“Stop there,” Artemis demands.

“Okay,” Wally says, raising his hands.

God, he can barely _breathe_. It’s been like a week for him. How long has it been for her?

“Who are you?” Artemis asks, wary of his strangely-familiar costumed appearance.

Slowly, for her sake, Wally reaches to remove his goggles and cowl. Once removed, he looks her in the eye, and everything moves in slow motion once more. He watches her eyes widen and every expression she goes through (recognition–disbelief–hope–shock–pain–repeat) in the half-second it takes for her to see him.

“No,” she says, shaking her head and taking a step back. Her hands fly to cover her mouth.

Wally takes a step forward. “Artemis, I know it’s crazy, but it’s me. I’m back.”

“H–How? How? You–” Artemis swallows down her words before saying, “You _died_.”

 “No, I didn’t,” Wally says, vehemently shaking his head. “I swear. I can explain– give me a chance.”

“Talk!” Artemis runs both of her hands through her hair before tugging at her earrings and running through that process once more.

“Time travel,” Wally spits out before he goes on. “I literally _just_ got back from the future.”

“Time– Are you– What–” Artemis steps backwards and nearly bumps into her bike but Wally, by her side in an instant, holds his arm between her and the bike.

 Artemis freezes at his touch. Wally slowly helps her turn around and face him fully. He tentatively reaches for her hand and smiles weakly when she grabs his and squeezes hard.

Her eyes are filled with tears when she asks, “ _Time travel?_ Are you serious?”

Wally nods. “Serious as a heart attack, babe.”

“I think I might be having one,” she says with a brittle laugh.

He doesn't expect her to take her hand out of his, so when she does pull away, his hands feel terribly empty. This was not how he expected their reunion to feel. The feeling spreads from the tips of his fingers to his shoulders and in the time it takes to reach his head, he realizes that this is what the older Artemis had warned him about. He shakes off the empty feeling in an instant. He has to give her time. That’s the least he can do.

“I can’t believe you’re here, you’re really here,” Artemis says, stumbling over her words while taking slow steps towards the staircase to the apartment.

“I kind of can’t believe it either,” Wally admits, rubbing the back of his neck as he follows her up the stairs. Halfway up, he remembers the light and the people inside.

 “Artemis, wait,” he says.

Artemis turns around with dazed eyes, and Wally is convinced she believes she is dreaming right now. “What?”

 “Is there something special going on today?” Wally asks. 

It takes her a moment to remember. “It’s– It’s my birthday.”

“Oh,” Wally says, his expression dropping, “happy birthday, but there-are-a-bunch-of-people-waiting-to-surprise-you-inside.”

“What did you just say?” Artemis snaps back into focus. “I don’t– a surprise? I can’t take anymore of those today–”

Wally places his hands on her shoulders and calmly says, “Don’t worry. I got this.”

_Time to rip off the bandaid._

Wally takes the key out of her hand, passes her on the narrow staircase, unlocks the front door, and opens it wide. 

“Surprise!” People shout, laughing until they turn the lights on and see exactly who just walked into the apartment. 

Once they recognize him, no one laughs.

 “Hey, everybody.” Wally grins, waving a hand at the silent group. “...Surprise?”

 

* * *

 

_**Meanwhile...** _

 

* * *

 

Artemis watches the glow from the Chamber fade away and the tension in her shoulders fades away with it. Her job is done. She exhales slowly before she turns around to face her friends.

 “You know,” Conner starts, looking up from the screens, “I wish he could have stuck around longer. Him being here got me out of monitor duty all week and I’m all caught up on my mission reports.”

Artemis wrinkles her nose. “Glad _you_ had fun.”

“What’s the matter?” Dick asks.

“I don’t know,” Artemis admits, leaning back against the railing. “This week has been pretty unsettling.”

Dick nods before he says, “You can’t really blame him for not telling you about this.”

Artemis narrows her eyes at him and asks, “What do you mean? He told me he went to the future as soon as he got back. I’ve been on guard almost every Tuesday for the last twenty-some years, waiting for him to pop up. Now he has and it’s been so strange seeing him like that. It feels weird now that it’s over.”

“Wait, he told _both_ of you guys?” Conner asks in disbelief.

Dick, mouth agape, turns to Conner. “ _You_ knew? All this time?”

For a moment, there is silence between them. It’s broken a second later by their echoing laughter.

“Oh, he is _so_ lucky he’s not here right now,” Artemis notes with a smile.

“Actually, they’re almost back,” Dick says, pulling up a screen on his wrist. “GL requested access to Airlock 4 two minutes ago.”

Already striding out the door, Artemis declares, “I get first crack at him!”

* * *

 

“The kids are grounded,” Artemis says, as soon as Wally steps out of the airlock. “We’re going home.”

He pauses in front of her, arms outstretched, and asks, “No _Hi honey, glad you’re back from space_? Straight to business?”

 Artemis obliges him with a hug and says, “The second they see you they’re going to beg you to convince me to lift their sentence so, yes, straight to business. Glad you’re back from space.”

She slips her hand into his and they begin their walk to the Zeta platform.

Wally clears his throat before he asks, “Now, when you say the kids are grounded, do you mean all of them or just ours?”

“Just ours, of course.”

“Right.” Wally nods. “I should’ve known. Do I _want_ to know what happened?”

“They thought it’d be a _great_ idea to not relay the CCPD’s request for The Flash to me, or Bart, or _literally_ anyone else. By the time I got to the circus, they were trapped in a mirror maze, Mirror Master had already stolen _three_ tigers, and Trickster had locked all of the clowns in their stupid tiny car. It was a _mess,_ and that was only Tuesday.” Artemis explains, sighing deeply. “The kids really missed having you around to play good cop this time.”

“How much time are they serving?”

 “Three weeks. No missions and Lian gets to run their conditioning drills unsupervised.”

 “That’ll teach ‘em. I’ll make sure they know that, no matter how much they missed me, _good cop_ agrees with _bad cop_ on this one,” Wally says, entering the coordinates into the computer. “And what about you? Did you miss me?”

“Oh, trust me,” Artemis laughs and leans against him as the platform lights up beneath them, “I got more than enough of you while you were gone.”

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

 

**_END._ **

 


End file.
